


Just Take It

by lunarlychallenged



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: I feel like my boy is a total recieving gifts, I just like him, I was thinking about Jared's love languages, Love Languages, but maybe I'll write him for the others too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 07:22:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14827928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunarlychallenged/pseuds/lunarlychallenged
Summary: If Jared Kleinman liked giving you things, all power to him.  You just had to figure out what you could give him.





	Just Take It

You frowned at your worksheet. You had done the problem wrong, and you knew it, but your eraser was toast. It was just a flat layer of pink at the bottom of your pencil. You could just cross out the problem and start again next to it, but you hated how that looked. It wasn’t like you had much of a choice.

An eraser flew from your left, bounced off of your desk, and hit the floor. “Slick catch, ace,” Jared Kleinman said.

“It’s not like you warned me,” you said. You probably wouldn’t have caught it anyway, and Jared knew it. He probably wouldn’t have either, truth be told.

You erased the problem, but when you went to hand Jared his eraser, he waved you off. “Keep it.”

You frowned. Jared took pride in having things of his own. When he got his car, he bragged about it for weeks. It didn’t matter that his parents paid for it and paid for the insurance; Jared had a car, and he was smug about it. He was the kid to talk about everything he got for Christmas and birthdays. He researched before he bought something new, telling you about why he chose what he did. He was not selfish, per se, but he took pride in having good things.

“Are you sure? It’s your eraser, and you might need it,” you said.

He smirked at you. “It looks like you need it more than I do.”

You gave in, setting it down on your desk. If he didn’t want it, you wouldn’t say no.

 

 

You stood on the bleachers, head held high. You hadn’t expected the fire drill. Usually you heard rumors about it a day or two ahead of time, so you could plan your wardrobe accordingly, but you had gym this period. It didn’t matter that you had a sweater and thick socks inside. You had to brave the windy November day in shorts and a T-shirt.

“Christ, Y/N. You look like Jack Nicholson at the end of the Shining,” a familiar voice said. When you turned back, Jared was a few rows behind you. He was wearing a hoodie and jeans, you noted enviously.

“He died,” you intoned. “Death would be a luxury right now.”

Jared laughed. “Oh my God. You don’t have to be so dramatic.” He pulled off his hoodie, quickly fixing his rucked up T-shirt as he did so. You were so caught up by the brief glimpse of his stomach that you didn’t realize what he was doing until the hoodie hit you in the face.

You fumbled for it. “No, Jared, it’s cold out.”

“That’s why I gave you a sweatshirt.”

“But now you’ll be cold,” you protested. You tried to hand it back, but he crossed his arms. He was already shivering.

“No way. I’m not going to be the asshole that watches you freeze to death. If you don’t wear it, neither of us will.”

The two of you stood, both freezing, for several minutes. Finally you gave in, shrugging it on. If he was going to freeze, it should be for a good cause. The scent hit you immediately. “Jeez, do you bathe in AXE?”

He smirked. “The ladies like it.”

You snorted. “I’m sure.” You kind of did, in a weird way. You didn’t like the smell on anybody else, but on Jared’s clothes, it made you think of jokes at lunch and late night meme texts. 

When the principal announced that the drill was over, you started to take the hoodie off. “Kleinman, hang on, take your clothes.”

“Nah, you can wear it for the rest of the day.”

“I don’t need it,” you said. You wanted it, but you didn’t need it. “I have a jacket with my regular clothes.”

He shrugged. “I don’t want to smell like your nasty gym sweat. The ladies don’t like that. Wash it and bring it back.”

You brought it back a few days later, not telling him that it took so long because you wanted to wear it at night until his smell faded.

 

 

“This is a very nice place,” you said dramatically.

“This is a sort of gross, very cheap diner,” Jared said. He dipped a french fry into his milkshake, which was not weird, but he made sure to have a healthy serving of whipped cream on it too, which did seem a little strange.

“And we’re eating dinner,” you continued, ignoring him.

“It’s one o’clock in the morning, and we decided we needed to go someplace to work on our Chem lab.”

“This is a date!” You concluded it in a voice a little too loud, drawing unwanted eyes to your booth, but Jared just rolled his eyes.

“Y/N, I swear to God, stop quoting Enchanted at me,” he said. A smile tugged at his lips, but he shoved the last of his fries in his mouth to cover it up.

“Come on, Kleinman,” you said. “We haven’t even touched our lab. You’ve been trying to ruin my faith in Peter Pan with conspiracy theories.”

“It’s weird that he kidnaps kids, Y/N,” Jared said seriously. “Why would he do that? And why don’t they grow up? Peter Pan kills them. I’m telling you, Captain Hook and his crew are the kids who escaped before they were murdered. They’re the good guys.”

You covered your ears. “Blasphemy. Peter Pan is the first and the greatest love of my life.”

“You’re a pedophile.” Jared ignored your aghast face and turned to the very amused waitress, who had evidently been there long enough to pick up the jist of your conversation.

“Here’s the bill,” she said. Then she winked at you. “Your boy is right. Peter Pan is a monster.”

You threw up your hands, exasperated. “The world is against me. I should never stay up past ten.” You froze, hands still raised, looking at the bill. There was only the one. “Should we call her back, or just split -”

Jared already had the bill in hand, his wallet in the other. “I’ve got it.”

“No,” you said slowly. “No, you don’t have to buy my food.”

He rolled his eyes at you. “I’m the one who said we should get work done here, and I’m the one who kept work from getting done. It’s on me.”

You shouldn’t have been surprised. Jared was always giving you things. This just felt different, somehow. Erasers were one thing; a meal was a different class of gift. “I’ll pick up the next one, I guess.”

“Absolutely not,” Jared snorted. “I’m ‘your boy.’ This is my job.”

You gave in, hiding a smile behind your nearly empty milkshake glass. You had planned to tease him about the waitress’s comment later, but if he wanted to use it to justify buying you food, all power to him.

You had hoped that you would stop thinking about it by the time you were in the car, on the way home, but you just kept thinking about it. Jared was always giving you things, lending you things, or, apparently, buying you things. He treated it like it was nothing, but it didn’t feel like nothing. You felt like you had nothing to offer in return, so you racked your brain for something to repay him.

“I guess we’ll have to meet up again to work on the lab,” Jared said. He had parked on the street outside your house, but neither of you were quite ready to end the evening.

“That’s how it looks,” you agreed. “Thanks for the food.”

He waved you off. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing,” you insisted.

“Fine,” he huffed. “You are forever in my debt. When a suicide mission lands in my heavily endowed lap, I’ll make you do it.”

You grinned. “That seems fair. But just in case that doesn’t happen, I have something to give you in return.”

“I don’t want -”

“It’s not money,” you said patiently. “And if you like it, you can give it back.”

He smirked. “I think you mean that if I don’t like it, I can give it back.”

“Nope,” you said. You took his face in your hands and kissed him. He gave a hum of surprise, but leaned into you immediately. He still tasted like chocolate, and his skin was a little stubbly. You didn’t want to pull away, but you didn’t want to trap him in something that you didn’t exactly make sure he wanted.

You pulled away, smiling at the dazed elation on Jared’s face. “I think that covers the food,” you said. “Maybe not the other stuff, though.”

“I really, really liked that,’ Jared said. There was nothing teasing or smug about the smile on his face. It was all genuine, smitten happiness. You knew that in the coming days, he would tease you about this, but for now he was truly delighted. “That was great. I’ll definitely have to return that.”

“Tomorrow,” you said. You got out of the car, lingering for a second before closing the door. “You can return it tomorrow, when we meet up again. Thanks again, ‘my boy.’”

He waited to drive away until you got to the front door. You were happy that he couldn’t see your face. You didn’t think you’d be able to stop smiling for hours, and though he ought to know how happy he made you, it might be better for him to learn that a little bit at a time. You would give him plenty of time to figure it out.


End file.
